


Love Knows Not Its Own Depth

by Sincestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Drug Use, Established Relationship, First Time, First Time Bottoming, I think that's it - Freeform, M/M, Rimming, Rough Sex, Shotgunning, Top Castiel, Top Dean, almost dubcon, but not really, dean comes to some realizations, endverse cas is sad, endverse dean is jealous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 12:30:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8327959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sincestiel/pseuds/Sincestiel
Summary: “He’s not me,” his double grates out, taking a menacing step forward and Dean has to fight himself not to burst out of the bathroom.  But he’s curious.  And Cas doesn’t look like he feels threatened through the crack of the door. 
“He’s more you than you are,” Cas replies with a shrug, seemingly unaffected by this Dean’s very Alpha display. 
“That doesn’t even make sense, Cas,” he says, taking another step forward, almost in Cas’ personal space now.  And if he didn’t know before, if it wasn’t glaringly obvious the second he strode into the shack in a fit of jealous rage, he knows now.  He sees the way Cas looks at this version of himself in this moment, anguish and heartache and anger tempered by love and devotion and need.  And he wishes he could see his own face, see if any of that is reflected back.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote one of these before. Kinda. But there was no sex. And then I fell in love with the idea of Dean seeing Endverse Dean and Cas fucking and not being bothered by the idea. At all. And so this happened.

“Are you fucking him?” This older, more damaged version of himself growls as he enters Castiel’s shack, the beads of the curtain still rattling behind him. Dean reaches for the knob to open the bathroom door where he was pissing just a few seconds ago. He means to put his future self in check because not only is Cas’ sex life not their business, but he doesn’t get to talk to Cas that way. 

But he only gets the door part of the way open before Cas laughs, seemingly uninterested in letting his future self know that they have an audience, “What if I am? Are you jealous of yourself?” 

“He’s not me,” his double grates out, taking a menacing step forward and Dean has to fight himself not to burst out of the bathroom. But he’s curious. And Cas doesn’t look like he feels threatened through the crack of the door. 

“He’s more you than you are,” Cas replies with a shrug, seemingly unaffected by this Dean’s very Alpha display. 

“That doesn’t even make sense, Cas,” he says, taking another step forward, almost in Cas’ personal space now. And if he didn’t know before, if it wasn’t glaringly obvious the second he strode into the shack in a fit of jealous rage, he knows now. He sees the way Cas looks at this version of himself in this moment, anguish and heartache and anger tempered by love and devotion and need. And he wishes he could see his own face, see if any of that is reflected back. 

“He’s the you I fell for. The version of you I wish I had offered myself to. Not this… shell you are now.” 

It happens fast, so fast that Dean isn’t sure who moves first. Maybe Castiel’s words anger his doppelganger or maybe they ring too true. Dean isn’t sure what lights the fuse, but they’re kissing now. If what he’s seeing can be called kissing anyway. He’s practically feeding at Cas’ mouth with nips and sucks at his lips, his tongue delving deep, and Cas just takes it. He whines and lets himself be guided backward, against the wall. And that’s where his future self takes him. Hard and fast. 

Castiel’s pants are jerked off and the other him only drops his to his knees. The prep is minimal, only spit slicking the way, and Castiel’s eyes land on his, across the room and through the crack as the other Dean presses in, deep and brutal. And it turns Dean’s stomach. He has to stop this. He’s watching himself almost rape someone and it’s too much. 

But when he pushes the door open and starts to step out Cas shakes his head, just barely. He mouths ‘It’s okay,” and nods toward the bathroom, indicating Dean should stay put. So Dean grits his teeth and steps back into the room, pulling the door closed behind him. He can’t watch this. Shouldn’t watch it. Apparently Cas wants whatever is going on and that future, ruined version of himself needs it. 

And that lasts until Cas makes the most delicious noise, nothing like the groan he let out when future him pressed in way too soon. He justifies watching with the fact that Castiel knows he’s there and he can consent for his future self. So he pushes the door ajar again and has to stifle a moan of his own. Because future Dean has Cas bent over the footboard of the bed now, both of them still mostly dressed, and his hand is stripping Cas’ leaking cock in time with his thrusts. But that’s not the most interesting part, and probably not what pulled that sound out of Cas’ mouth. 

Future Dean isn’t fucking him hard anymore. Before it looked like a punishment but now, the way they’re moving together is almost sweet. Nothing like Dean fucks in his present even. And his mouth is all over Cas’ neck, tender and gentle. Loving almost. 

Cas’ head is turned toward the door to the bathroom, and his dazed eyes land on Dean’s face and he moans again, wanton and needy and Dean knows that’s all for him. Castiel is thinking about him. Not future Dean who is trying and failing so hard to be what Cas needs. Future Dean who doesn’t really have it in him to love anyone anymore even if it’s painfully obvious at the moment that he _wants_ to love Cas. Is desperate to feel that, even. 

Cas is thinking about _him_. Cracked, but not yet broken. Like he knows exactly what Dean is thinking, Cas sighs, “Dean,” just as he comes all over the other Dean’s hand. And the other Dean pulls out then, jerking himself hard over Cas’ ass, grunting when his release splashes over the pale skin. 

And before the tremors can subside, he’s smearing it in like he’s marking his territory, bending over to murmur against Cas’ ear, just loud enough for Dean to hear, “Don’t, Cas. You’ll fuck him up. He doesn’t want you like this. Won’t for a long damned time. I’ll take care of you, baby. Just leave him alone.” With that, the other him stands and tucks himself away. He moves to leave and stops with his back toward Cas when Cas speaks. 

“But you don’t, Dean. You never do. You stopped taking care of me years ago. And here I am, still orbiting you, like always.” 

“Are you planning to leave anytime soon?” His doppelganger tosses back over his shoulder. 

Castiel straightens then, reaching for his pants as he barks out a humorless laugh, empty and pained, “Never.” The other Dean nods and marches right out of the shack. 

When Dean steps out of the bathroom, they’re both quiet for several minutes. The air is thick with the scent of sex and heavy with everything that Cas just laid bare for him. And he aches with the sadness of it all. The way Cas seems smaller now. The way his own heart is twisting painfully in his chest. 

The other Dean was right though. Until this point, if Dean wanted Cas as anything other than a friend or brother, he didn’t realize it. It must have either grown over the years he himself has yet to live, or it was buried too deep for him to touch. 

“You’re kind of a dick now. In case you didn’t know that already,” Castiel says, voice wavering but never breaking. 

"So... are we…? _What_ are we, I guess I should ask. Because I took a slap for him earlier, and you were planning a fucking orgy. So I’m assuming we’re not exclusive. But he was pissed and jealous as hell. So what’s the deal?” 

Dean supposes he should be more freaked out about the fact that future him has no qualms about fucking a guy. And maybe it should be an even bigger deal because the guy, or one of the guys, he’s fucking is Cas. But, even if he didn’t realize it until now, it kinda makes sense. 

Cas laughs again, and he fishes a joint and a book of matches out of a drawer before easing down to the floor, wincing at the burn Dean knows he must be feeling. “Nothing, Dean. We’re nothing.” 

“That didn’t look like nothing.” Dean lowers himself as well, close enough that Cas can pass him the joint but far enough so they aren’t touching. 

“Yeah. But it felt like nothing. Well, mostly anyway. Hey, do me a favor, when you get back, start stocking up on lube. Lotion. Coconut oil even. Just anything that might be useful as lube. Because you have a monster cock and every time you get that itch, I’m sore for days.” 

Dean grimaces and fights the urge to preen a little at Castiel’s assessment of his goods, because he knows what he just witnessed was painful. But he’d hoped it was only a jealous outburst and not the norm. Apparently not. 

“Sorry about that. I… for what it’s worth, I don’t do that. Like, ever. I mean, obviously at some point I do. Or some version of me does. But I’m going to try not to hit that point.” 

“Sometimes it isn’t like that,” Cas says, striking a match and bringing both it and the joint to his lips. There’s a gentle hiss as he takes a long drag off the thinly rolled tube, and then he holds it out to Dean who accepts graciously. 

“Sometimes,” Cas says voice tight and thin around the smoke filling his lungs, “it’s almost sweet.” He coughs and blows the smoke out. “But those times always end in tears and you’re usually especially rough the next time.” 

Dean takes a hit off the joint, watches the tip flare orange briefly before he passes it back. He fights the urge to cough and holds tight to the smoke. He sort of needs to be high right now. 

Cas strikes another match, takes another drag, and turns his head to study Dean in the flickering light of the candles spaced around the room. And, around his full lungs says, “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Dean Winchester,” exhale and then deeper, almost trance like, “In any incarnation, any time period, always. It’s your soul. The first part of you I ever saw. And I’ve been lost ever since.” 

Cas sighs and passes the joint back and for a while neither of them say anything. Because what can Dean say to that? Thanks hardly seems appropriate. So they pass back and forth and when the joint dwindles down to almost nothing, burning their fingers, Cas drops the roach into an ashtray and reaches behind him to dig in the drawer for a new one. 

By the time they finish the second one, Dean is floating. Time is irrelevant and his limbs feel heavy and his head falls to the side when he tries to turn and look at Cas where they’re propped up against his dresser. 

“’M sorry, Cas. Sorry I’m such a dick.” 

Cas smiles then, softly, the shadows from the dancing flames falling over his face and making him prettier than Dean ever remembers him being. “It’s okay. You’re just trying to hold on. And I’m saving you. Because you _deserve_ to be saved. Even now. Maybe more so now. You’ve lost so much,” Cas’ voice cracks then and he reaches up with trembling fingers to trace Dean’s left cheek bone. And Dean just closes his eyes and lets him. 

“Still have you though,” Dean says around his thick tongue, voice rough with an emotion he’s not sure he understands. 

“We’re inevitable, me and you. I couldn’t leave you even if I wanted to. And sometimes I really, _really_ want to.” 

Dean opens his eyes again, slow under the weight of drugs he hasn’t touched in years, and Castiel is looking at him like… like he always does and Dean’s breath catches because how has he never seen it before. “You’re in love with me. In my time too, I mean.” 

“In any time, Dean. If there’s a me and a you, I’m gone for you,” there’s so much sadness in his words, like he’s tried to fight it and failed. Like he doesn’t want to love Dean. And it hurts much more than it should because, until now, Dean didn’t know he needed Cas’ love. But he does. 

Castiel’s fingers, calloused and rough, drag over Dean’s lips and some of that sadness leaves when he smiles, “You know, these lips have fueled many a wet dream. When I first fell, it was like going through puberty. And every night there was just you. I didn’t dream about anything too untoward at first. But these lips. Just the thought of kissing you could make me as hard as a rock.” 

Dean blushes at that, but he can’t help the slow smile that spreads over his face, smooth and flirty, “Yeah?” 

Cas draws his bottom lip between his teeth and lets his eyes wander back and forth between Dean’s mouth and his eyes and his own mouth stretches into an almost filthy grin. “Oh yeah. Of course, a little later my dreams turned decidedly not so PG, but for a while I woke up covered in jizz because I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you.” 

Emboldened by the smoke and by Castiel’s obvious interest in him, Dean reaches out, clutching at Cas’ shirt, “Come ‘ere,” he says, guiding Cas toward him, up and over so that he’s straddling Dean’s lap, their crotches several inches apart, but closer than Dean has ever been to him. And they’re frozen for several minutes, Dean because this is all so new and Cas because having Dean touch him gently is a rarity 

“So tell me about the first time we kissed,” Dean requests quietly, his hands playing softly, nervously up and down Cas’ sides. And Cas just stares at him, the crickets growing louder through the open windows by the moment. 

Finally Cas tilts his head to the side and drapes his arms around Dean’s neck, his fingers twiddling at the hairs curling at the Dean’s nape, “Sure you wouldn’t rather hear about those dreams and fantasies. Some of them are pretty fucking great.” 

Dean sees it, that pain in his eyes, and he knows. Their first kiss didn't live up to the hype for Cas. Maybe Dean rejected him then. Or maybe Dean took without asking or caring if Cas wanted it. Maybe it happened in anger. He’s not sure of the circumstances, but Cas doesn’t want to talk about it for a reason. Later he’ll probably blame the weed for what he does next. 

“Better idea,” Dean murmurs, pulling Cas closer, his hands folding firmly over the small of Cas’ back, “let’s have a new first kiss.” 

Castiel inhales sharply and shudders from head to toe before leaning forward to rest his forehead against Dean’s and then they’re breathing the same air, lips so close but not yet touching. And Cas just sits there eyes closed, and body tense, fingers still twisting Dean’s short hair. 

“Fuck,” Cas finally whispers, “Even after everything, I still want you so much it hurts.” 

“Then what are you waiting for?” 

Cas groans and his hands shift, sliding up Dean’s head. And then those fingers are buried in Dean’s hair, tugging just a little, “I shouldn’t. It would disrupt the… space time continuum or something. Then my first kiss with you wouldn’t be your first with me and your first with me wouldn’t-” 

Dean cuts him off then, pressing his lips firmly against Cas’ plush mouth. He swallows the desperate moan that escapes Cas and doesn’t even feel embarrassment at the whimper that he releases. He expects their kiss to ignite a fire between them because he saw how it was earlier. But it doesn’t, not like that anyway. 

Instead of devolving into a mindless animal like his future counterpart did, Dean melts into Castiel. Their second kiss is just as soft and sweet as their first and their third follows the same pattern. And Dean’s arousal is a pleasant hum under the sloppy smacking of their lips and the rustling of their clothing as they slowly rock against each other. And when they finally break apart, they’re both panting and clinging to each other and Castiel leaves his mouth to nibble and suck along his jaw. Dean lets his head fall back to accommodate Cas’ wishes. 

When his eyes open, Cas’ mouth is still roaming aimlessly over his skin, and he’s staring into his own eyes over the top of Cas’ head. He looks angry but, just under that, hurt. And maybe the anger is a cover for the pain. Knowing himself, and he does, that’s exactly what it is. 

Before he can bring Castiel’s attention to the fact that they have an audience, his doppelganger turns and slips out, barely even jostling the bead curtain. Dean considers not saying a word, figuring that if he tells Cas then Cas will chase after him and he really doesn’t want him to leave. But if asshole him is going to hold this over Cas, then Cas should know. 

“Your boyfriend just saw us,” Dean grunts, tightening his hold on Cas briefly to, hopefully, convey how much he doesn’t want this to end. 

“Shit, don’t let him hear you say that,” Cas raises up then, just his torso, and turns to look at the door, one hand still in Dean’s hair and the other on his chest. He’s suspended between clinging to the Dean under him and follow the one who just left. So Dean tips the scales in his favor. 

“Stay. Let me give you want he doesn’t,” it’s much bolder than Dean feels, but his head is still fuzzy. And he thinks Cas probably has enough experience to make up for what Dean is lacking in this situation. And that’s something he never imagined, that Castiel might be more experienced in a sexual situation. 

Cas turns back to look at him and Dean’s eyes lock on the swollen, red of his lips briefly. But then Cas tilts his head, considering and Dean lets Cas have his full attention. When he speaks next, Dean knows it’s a test, “What are you going to give me, baby Dean?” 

Dean almost pours on the charm. Because, hey, even lacking in experience, he doesn’t doubt his ability to make Castiel writhe for him. But that other him is cocky and brazen and still leaving Cas wanting. So he drops all pretense and meets Castiel’s gaze steadily. He lets everything show on his face. Their entire history, or what he knows of it, stretching out between them. Heartache and betrayal and forgiveness and so goddamn much love. Dean feels like he might suffocate under the weight of emotion he usually hides. 

He utters just one word, and hopes it works, hopes he’s finally getting it right, “Me.” 

Cas gasps lightly and then smiles, almost demure, “Oh, you’re good, Dean. But I don’t think I can manage that dick of yours twice in one night. Not when I’m still sore from the last time.” 

Dean almost starts listing other things they could do. Some obvious, and some dredged up from the darkest corners of his mind where he keeps all those dirty fantasies he doesn’t let himself examine in the light of day. But then it hits him. This needs to be totally different from anything Cas has ever done with the future version of himself. And the fact that he didn’t even consider it a possibility is telling. And, well, Dean knows himself. He knows that’s not something he would do. Not until now anyway. 

“So you take me,” he says it with a nonchalant shrug and inwardly cheers at the way Cas’ eyes widen. But god, it’s sad too. And he hates himself a little more. How the hell has he justified stringing Castiel along like this? Because he’s a bastard, for sure. But he cares about Cas. Loves him, even. So why? 

“Take you? As in… fuck you?” 

“Yeah. That’s new, right? Something not tainted by him yet?” 

“Yet? Never. He would never allow that.” And then, in a stage whisper, “That would be gay, you know?” 

And yeah, that sounds like him. Even now the thought makes him a little squirmy. But the longer he’s here, the more time Castiel spends in his lap, the less Dean likes the version of himself that helped mold this version of Castiel. He wants to distance himself from that douchebag. He’s not him yet. He doesn’t ever have to be him. But if he’s going to avoid it, he has to change right now. 

“Yeah. It would. So what are we waiting for? Take me to bed, Cas.” 

Cas stares at him a little longer, smile growing and it takes Dean’s breath. How has he not noticed this before? How beautiful Cas is? How blue his eyes are? How kissable his lips are? How is this all new to him? 

“We’ve never fucked in a bed before.” 

“Really? How long have we been… I mean, you and him?” 

“A couple years.” 

Dean almost chokes, “Years and we’ve never had sex in a bed? The fuck are we doing it?” Because yeah, Dean’s adventurous, but he loves the space a bed gives him. Loves to spread his partner out on a comfortable surface and enjoy them. 

“Against the wall. On the floor. Over the railing of the porch a time or two. Once you fucked me against a tree. I think I still have scars from that.” At Dean’s wince, Cas shakes his head, still smiling, “It was good. That’s one of the good memories. You caught me kissing Chuck. And-” 

“Chuck?!” Dean cuts Cas off, “Really? I mean, Chuck’s a good guy and all, I guess. But really?” 

“Yeah, that’s what you said when you stumbled on us making out while we were on a perimeter sweep. Apparently you’re good with me fucking any woman I want, as many as I want, but you don’t care for me touching other men. Even when it’s yourself.” 

And Cas isn’t wrong, that’s definitely jealousy curling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of him with Chuck. And he didn’t feel that with the orgy group earlier. 

“So Chuck ran off and the next thing I know, you’re on your knees in front of me. That’s the first and only time you ever sucked me off,” Cas runs his pointer finger over Dean’s bottom lip wistfully, “I came so hard. And then you fucked me into an oak tree. My back was cut up for two weeks. And every time I tried to lean back in a chair and it twinged, I remembered how sweetly you kissed me even while you were pounding me so hard I couldn’t breathe.” 

“I’ve got you all kinds of fucked up, don’t I? I’m sorry, Cas. God.” 

“It’s okay. You haven’t done anything to me yet, past Dean. You’re still so sweet and innocent. But we’re gonna change that, aren’t we? Got all night. Unless you have somewhere else to be?” 

Even if Dean had somewhere else to go, and he doesn’t because there’s no way the other Dean will want to share space with him now, he wouldn’t want to. And the thought that someone would consider him innocent , particularly Cas is intriguing. So yeah, he’s not going anywhere. 

“Nope,” Dean confirms, pushing up far enough to plant a soft, lingering kiss on Cas’ chin. 

“Good,” Cas stands then holding a hand out to assist Dean and then they’re almost pressed together, Cas only an inch or so shorter, “Lose the boots and the jacket and hop on the bed.” 

As Dean is complying, Cas grabs another joint and matchbook out of the drawer and then sets about strategically blowing out candles until there are only a handful left burning. Dean drops his jacket on top of his boots and as he’s arranging himself on one side of the bed, he glances up and stills when he sees Castiel just watching him from where he’s standing at the foot. Dean’s nerves try to get the best of him then and part of him wants to run. But there’s something in Castiel’s eyes that Dean hasn’t seen since he landed in this godforsaken place. Something that looks a lot like the Cas Dean knows. So he bottles the anxiety and leans back on his elbows. Waiting. 

“You look good in my bed,” Cas says, finally rounding the end of the bed and planting one knee beside Dean as he climbs up. He slots himself over Dean’s thighs again, settling in as he lights the fresh joint. He takes a deep hit and then presses Dean back with one hand on his shoulder. Then Cas is hovering over him, gaze flicking between his lips and his eyes. Dean understands that Cas means to share with him just a split second before their mouths touch. And then he’s pulling the smoke from Cas’ lungs into his own, lips barely touching. 

Dean tips his head back, intoxicated as much by the acrid smoke as he is by Castiel’s proximity and obvious infatuation. Cas’ mouth, warm and damp, latches onto this jaw and then drags down his neck teeth nipping at the skin exposed just above his collar. Dean exhales and reaches up to grip Cas at the waist, hips bucking slightly. He’s so turned on, desperate even. Castiel meets Dean's thrust with a downward grind and they both moan. 

Cas sits up, leaning over to drop what’s left of the joint into a plate on the table beside his bed, and then his hands slip under Dean’s shirt, lifting the material up Dean’s torso. Dean is nervous again. He knows he isn’t as sculpted as he could be and he doesn’t want to be found lacking. But the sharp inhale he hears from Cas as the shirt is pulled over his head and tossed to the side is encouraging. 

“This body,” Cas says, reverently, fingertips ghosting over Dean’s skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He bends over again, lips closing over a nipple. He grins wickedly up at Dean when his whole body convulses under the attention. And he knew that his nipples were sensitive, but he never knew they were directly connected to his dick. 

At the look of surprise on his face, Cas shrugs and flicks his tongue out again, reveling in Dean’s answering shiver. “I built you, Dean. From the inside out. Your body has no secrets from me. I know it better than you do.” 

When Cas sinks his teeth into the side of Dean’s pec, shocking Dean with how the pleasure courses through him, overriding the pain, Dean believes him. And that’s when Dean finally relaxes into the bed completely, giving himself over to Castiel. 

Castiel must realize that Dean has surrendered under him, because he’s suddenly more possessive, teeth and fingers digging in all over Dean’s chest and stomach. And the sounds Cas makes as he worships Dean’s body are so hot that by the time Cas sheds his own shirt and reaches for Dean’s fly, he’s vibrating like a plucked guitar string. But he fights the desire to turn to putty and lifts his hands, allowing them to roam over Cas’ sharply defined chest and abs. Castiel whimpers, his eyes falling closed as he presses into Dean’s touch. 

It strikes Dean then that his future self probably never touches Cas like this. Not this gently. Not with adoration and… _love_. And despite never having indulged himself with a male body, Dean wants to now. He wants to spread Castiel out and use his hands and lips and tongue to wring sounds of pleasure from Cas’ gorgeous body. He wants to unleash every gay fantasy he’s ever hidden on Castiel. And it seems fitting that he should do so, because for a while now, every faceless man in his dreams has had the bluest eyes. 

“Cas,” Dean says, voice rough with disuse and desire, “ _god_ , let me just…” Dean pulls at Cas’ hips, urging him up his body and Cas comes willingly, sighing when Dean’s lips press into the skin above his waistband. Dean licks and nips at the warm skin as he works Cas’ jeans open, not hesitating to spread his fly open and push his underwear down under his balls so that his cock juts out the front of his pants. And fuck, it’s just so… pretty. Which is odd, because he never imagined he’d think such a thing about a penis. But it is. It’s a little shorter and slimmer than his own, but it’s perfectly proportional. Castiel is uncut and leaking and Dean’s mouth waters at the thought of finally tasting. 

Catching Castiel’s eye, Dean’s tongue slides out, the pointed tip swiping over the head of Cas’ cock to collect the bead of precome lingering there. And it’s nothing like he expects. The briny flavor of Castiel bursts over his tongue and he’s shocked. There’s nothing of the chlorine taste he was prepared for just from smelling his own release over the years. And it’s delicious. Eagerly, Dean wraps a hand around Cas’ cock, squeezing in an attempt to coax another drop out of his slit. And when the pearly liquid seeps out, Dean collects that on his tongue as well. 

“Fuck,” Castiel breathes, his hand sinking into Dean’s hair, not tugging or dominating in any way. His touch feels soothing, anchoring. Like he knows how twisted Dean has always felt over this attraction he has for men and Cas is giving him permission to partake and to enjoy. And he does, taking as much of Cas into his mouth as he can at this awkward angle with Cas sitting on his chest and his jeans still in the way. But Castiel bucks forward when Dean sucks at his cockhead, moaning deep and gritty, his hold on Dean’s hair tightening slightly. 

Dean would do this all night, weird angle and all, because like this, he doesn’t have to think. As long as Cas keeps making those sweet little sounds, it’s enough. But it doesn’t take long for his jaw to start aching and his lips to go painfully numb. He must slow down or lose that edge of enthusiasm because Cas pulls away, chuckling when Dean whines and tries to follow him, tongue just barely brushing against Castiel’s slit before he slides down Dean’s body again. 

“Sorry, baby Dean. I’d let you keep going, but I don’t know how much time I have with you and we haven’t even gotten to the good stuff yet.” 

Dean begs to differ though. Because the kiss and grinding was good. And Cas’ hands and mouth on him was good. And Cas’ dick was fantastic. There have been so many good parts. And he’d swear nothing could be better right up until Cas pulls his jeans and underwear down, groaning at the sight of Dean’s cock. Because that hungry look on Cas’ face? That might just be the best thing yet. He actually looks disappointed that he can’t take it again. 

Cas licks his lips and then presses a soft kiss to the underside of Dean’s cock, and it feels like an apology. “You really are stunning, Dean,” Cas whispers against the inside of Dean’s thigh, nibbling tenderly at the soft, pale skin. And Dean gasps, spreading his legs as wide as he can with his jeans around his knees. And he feels his face heat when Castiel soothes him with several kisses and a , “We’re getting there, baby Dean.” 

Dean tries to force himself to relax, but then Cas latches onto his inner thigh with teeth and suction and it hurts so fucking good. He practically wails, hands grasping the blanket under him, his dick jumping and dripping copiously. And fuck if Cas doesn’t stop he’s going to blow. But Cas detaches from Dean’s skin in the nick of time with a deep, rumbling laugh. It’s so sweet, hearing those sounds come from Cas and Dean makes a mental note to find ways to make his Cas laugh when he gets home. 

“So responsive.” Cas works Dean’s jeans all the way down, leaving him bare and trembling. He produces a small tube and a condom from his back pocket before dropping the rest of his own clothes. And then he’s bare for the first time tonight and Dean thinks he’s even more attractive like this, naked and staring at Dean as if he’s a delicious buffet. 

He seems indecisive for a minute, watching Dean and chewing on his bottom lip and then he finally pats Dean’s calf and says, “Up on your hands and knees. I’ll be easier that way.” 

Dean just nods and lifts up, stopping just long enough to steal a quick kiss and nibble down Cas’ neck before he rolls over. He feels slightly self-conscious as he gets into position, but then Castiel’s hands are on him, massaging his cheeks. And he whispers the sweetest compliments into the small of Dean’s back - _beautiful… gorgeous… perfect…_ and it puts Dean at ease. He pillows his head on his folded arms and waits. 

Cas seems to be content to pepper kisses over his back and cheeks for so long that Dean is shocked when he uses his thumbs to pry Dean’s cheeks apart. Dean hisses as the cold air hits him but then Cas’ _mouth_ is there and Jesus Christ is he going to- 

“Holy fuck, Cas,” Dean whines when Cas prods at his hole with his pointed tongue. And when it slips inside, nudging him open, Dean shivers and arches, pressing back into Cas. He hears the quiver in his own voice as several long moans spill out of his mouth. But he can’t help it. Cas’ tongue is probing and flicking into him and he’s sucking at the tender flesh and Dean is helpless under the onslaught. 

It doesn’t take long at all for Castiel to open him up with tongue and fingers. Soon enough, Dean is eagerly fucking himself back on three of Cas’ wicked digits while Cas grips his hip with his other hand, encouraging Dean with filth. 

“That’s it, baby. You open up so pretty for me. Taste so good. Feel fucking amazing. Can’t wait to slide my cock inside you,” Cas croons, spreading his fingers and petting at Dean’s side when he groans at the slight burn, “I’ve been waiting years for this. Gonna make you come so hard, Dean.” 

Impatiently, Dean whines, “Now. Come on, Cas. Fuck me.” He’ll be embarrassed about the begging later. Right now his head is still spinning from the weed and maybe also from Cas’ ministrations. Right now he just _wants_ in a way he’s never let himself want before. And when he hears the foil packet crinkling as Castiel’s fingers leave his body, he knows Cas is going to oblige him. 

Moments later, Cas presses against him, the head of his dick applying steady pressure to Dean’s hole. He’s slick with lube and Dean can feel the condom warming with their skin. And if any time was the time to call it quits, this is it. Cas hovers a second longer and Dean can’t wait anymore, is scared he will call it off if they keep waiting. So he arches his back and pushes toward Cas, gasping when the head slides into his opening. 

Dean’s, “Christ,” finds company with Cas’, “Fuck,” and the burn is secondary to the delicious stretch as Cas sinks all the way in. One smooth push and Dean is already reaching for his own cock hanging heavy and dripping between his legs. Because yeah, it’s uncomfortable being so full, but it’s also fucking perfect and Dean has no clue why he’s waited this long. 

Cas pulls back and the drag is exquisite and Dean finds himself biting into the skin of the arm still under his head to muffle the desperate sobs that try to fight their way out of his mouth. But when Cas eases forward again, swiveling his hips and brushing right over Dean’s prostate, he can’t help the way he shivers and groans. And Cas seems to like that because he angles several more slow thrusts in the same spot and every time Dean has the same reaction. 

He fucking loves it. Which has, of course, been his biggest fear all along. Finding guys attractive? That’s okay maybe. But he has always tried to control it because wanting to be fucked? _Liking_ having a dick up his ass? That’s not okay. Until now. Because holy fuck, this is good. And life’s too short not to enjoy the good bits. 

“Harder, Cas. Come on. Give it to me,” and he doesn’t even care that he sounds like the chick in some raunchy porn. Because Cas whispers a “yeah,” and his hips snap forward knocking all the air out of Dean’s body. But it also makes his cock jump in his hand so it’s a fair tradeoff. 

“Faster,” Dean encourages again, needing suddenly to be bouncing on Castiel’s dick. The burn is still there, he still feels full and tight and maybe even a little uncomfortable, but it all comes together for him in a weird mix of hell fucking yes. And when Cas grunts and starts driving into him, Dean could cry with how amazing it feels. 

Soon enough, Cas is pounding into his ass, fucking him so deep into the bed that his knees slip and he falls into the mattress. But Cas keeps right on drilling him and Dean fights to strip his cock with all their weight trapping it and his hand under his body. And then he gives up and just relaxes, let’s Cas use him while he cradles his own groin with a hand that’s slowly losing circulation. 

He’s biting into the pillow – now he totally gets why that’s a saying – when Cas pulls out suddenly, leaving his aching hole twitching and still so needy. But then Castiel’s hands are on him and he’s being flipped over and pulled up. He just goes. Lets Cas twist and turn him until his straddling Cas’ thighs, mirroring their position from earlier. 

When Cas pushes back in from this angle, the feeling changes. It feels like Castiel’s cock is curving with his body instead of against it. And that pressure on his prostate is constant now. Feels awesome even with Cas perfectly still. He could jack off like this, Cas inpaling him without moving, and come harder than he ever has. He realizes then that he’s in charge now. He could do just that and Cas would be helpless to stop him. In fact, Dean locks onto Castiel’s blue eyes and sees the need in them. Cas wants him to take control. 

Dean thinks about earlier, how Cas pretty much melted for his future counterpart. How he went instantly subservient when that him kissed him. He was pliant and so very willing. And Dean thinks that’s probably part of their dynamic that Cas really enjoys. So he takes the reins. 

Dean’s hands tangle in Castiel’s hair, tight and unforgiving and then he lifts and drops onto Cas’ cock, keeping eye contact the whole time. And when Cas starts to pant, tilting his head in invitation, Dean presses their mouths together, Cas kisses him greedy, like he’s starving for the taste of Dean’s lips. That’s when everything goes a little blurry at the edges for Dean. He finds himself low on oxygen and high on Cas and when Cas reaches between them to squeeze his cock, his senses dull to almost nothing but Cas. 

Cas’ smell and his taste. The feel of Castiel’s hand on his dick and the nails biting into his side. Cas’ cock delving deeply into his body. The maddening drag against his prostate. The push and pull as he’s emptied and filled over and over. It all drives Dean right over the edge and he comes with a choked shout into Castiel’s mouth, pumping his release into the space between their bodies. 

But he never slows down, rides Cas even through the tremors and aftershocks. He keeps going, bouncing on Cas’ lap until Cas stills suddenly, pulling Dean tight against him. And Dean feels the throb of Castiel’s cock, feels it pulse and jerks inside of him. And God but he wishes there wasn’t a barrier between them. He wants Cas to fill him up. Mark him. Fucking own him at least this once because what if he never gets this again? 

Cas kisses him erratically for several minutes, trying to catch his breath without giving up Dean's lips, and Dean humors him. He licks into Castiel's mouth and sucks gently at his lips. He's just as eager to drag this out as Cas seems to be. But finally their heart rates slow and their breathing evens out. So Dean leans back some and gives them each a little room. 

“Fuck, I’m hungry,” Cas groans swooping in to nip at Dean’s bottom lip once more. And Dean laughs harder than he has in a long time, dislodging Cas from his body and falling back to the bed. When he looks up, Cas is watching him and the look on his face cuts off Dean’s mirth. Cas loves him. Like, really, really loves him. And he knew that, but getting the full intensity of it after what they just did? It’s like a punch to the gut. If a punch to the gut could ever also be pleasant. Because it hurts in the very best way. 

Cas stares at him for several minutes and then shakes his head with a sigh, “You never laugh any more. Not that it was ever very common anyway. But you don’t even smile. Not really. I miss you like this.” 

The words feel heavy and Dean doesn’t know what to say. He wants to apologize on behalf of who he becomes for this Cas. And he wants to promise to never let it actually get to this point. But Cas just pats his legs and stands, slipping the condom off and tying it before tossing it in the trashcan beside the bed. He finds them a bottle of water, which Dean needs badly as his tongue feels fuzzy, and a couple packs of crackers. When he comes back to the bed, he’s still naked and he pulls at the covers and motions for Dean to get under with him. 

They eat in silence, sharing the water bottle, and once the crackers are gone, Dean reclines against the headboard and reaches for Cas. The other man comes willingly, slotting himself against Dean’s chest, head resting on his shoulder and one hand pressing into his chest, right over his heart. When Cas speaks he sounds far away, so wistful it makes Dean ache. 

“We could have been great, you know. You and I. We fucked it up. But it could have been amazing.” 

As Cas drifts off to sleep, Dean whispers a promise that they will be. Come hell or high water, he’s going to make sure they get to be great. Maybe not happily ever after, because that’s not something people in his line of work get. Maybe not even like this, because, despite what this Cas says, his Cas might not really love him. But he’s going to make sure it doesn’t happen the way it has here. Whatever goes down when he gets back, however long it takes, Dean is going to love this man, this _angel_ as well as he knows how, however Cas will let him.

**Author's Note:**

> Customary tumblr plug: Hey, if you wanna follow me on [tumblr](http://sincestiel.tumblr.com/) that would be alright. Shoot me an [ask](http://sincestiel.tumblr.com/ask) if you have a prompt (Destiel, Wincestiel, Wincest, Cockles, J2) and we'll see what happens. :)


End file.
